The First Question
Rain in Newcastle never fell hard enough to make people stay home.
Just hard enough to annoy them.
Fine drops clung to the windows of student accommodation, darkened the stone walls of old buildings, and left wet trails across the pavements where students hurried toward their lectures.
It was Monday.
The first Monday of a new academic year.
The campus of Newcastle University was filled with people who looked like they were late for somewhere.
Someone was running with a backpack hanging from one shoulder.
Someone else was trying to drink coffee while answering a message.
And someone already looked like they were ready to quit university altogether.
Brad Harrison stood outside the School of Law, watching all of it without much interest.
He held a paper cup of coffee in one hand.
It was almost empty.
He hadn’t even noticed when he’d finished it.
His phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
Jack: If you’re already inside, save me a seat.
Brad replied:
Brad: You’re late.
The response came seconds later.
Jack: I’m coming.
Brad rolled his eyes.
That was Jack’s way of thinking.
If he wasn’t late yet, then he wasn’t late.
Brad put his phone back into his pocket.
He looked toward the entrance.
Then, without thinking about it, he walked inside.
The School of Law was louder than he’d expected.
Brad had never liked the beginning of a semester.
Too many people.
Too many questions.
Too many new faces.
Too many people who, after seeing you twice, would try to greet you as if you’d known each other for years.
He wasn’t like that.
He didn’t need a large circle of friends.
A few were enough.
People he didn’t have to explain himself to when he wanted to be alone.
People who didn’t ask questions he didn’t want to answer.
People who knew when to change the subject.
That was enough.
Brad stopped beside one of the noticeboards.
Someone had put up a poster for a student campaign.
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
Underneath it were several paragraphs about university politics, accountability, and the changes students were demanding.
Brad read the first line.
That was enough.
He looked away from the poster.
“Already looking like you regret coming here.”
Brad recognized the voice before he turned around.
Jack stood behind him, slightly out of breath, his backpack hanging from one shoulder.
“Good morning.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“To what?”
“My question.”
“You didn’t ask a question.”
Jack laughed.
“Fine. Then I was just commenting on your strange behavior.”
“It’s not strange.”
“You were standing outside the law building staring at it like you were trying to solve a murder.”
Brad raised an eyebrow.
“I study law.”
“Exactly.”
Jack laughed and started toward the stairs.
Brad followed.
“Did you see the campaign?” Jack asked.
Brad shrugged.
“Yeah.”
“What do you think?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a very detailed answer.”
“I know.”
Jack smiled.
“You know everyone is going to get involved in it.”
“Everyone?”
“There’s always something people argue about at university.”
Brad said nothing.
He didn’t like arguments.
Not the loud ones.
Not the ones that ended after five minutes.
He meant the kind that stayed inside people long after the words were over.
At the same time, a few buildings away, Taylor Morgan was late.
Again.
“Taylor!”
“I’m coming!”
“You said that ten minutes ago!”
“I know!”
Taylor hurried down the stairs of the student accommodation, trying to zip up her jacket with one hand while holding her phone in the other.
Mia was waiting by the entrance.
“How can you be late to your first lecture?”
“It’s very easy.”
“You slept in?”
“Yes.”
“Until when?”
Taylor glanced at her phone.
“I don’t want to answer that.”
Mia crossed her arms.
“Taylor.”
“Eleven.”
“Eleven in the morning?”
Taylor smiled.
“Maybe.”
“Your lecture starts at nine.”
“I know.”
Mia sighed.
“One day you’re going to wake up and realize life isn’t just parties, coffee, and making bad decisions.”
Taylor opened her umbrella.
“I hope that day never comes.”
Mia laughed.
“Come on.”
They headed toward campus.
Taylor looked like someone who had just gotten out of bed and somehow managed to look good enough that nobody would ask questions.
Which suited her perfectly.
She was a good student.
Actually, she was an excellent student when she put in the effort.
The problem was that she didn’t always put in the effort.
She preferred living fast.
Parties.
Late nights.
Spontaneous plans.
People you met one night and forgot by morning.
And whenever something went wrong?
Lying was easier.
Not always a big lie.
Sometimes just a small one.
I can’t tonight.
I’m already home.
I didn’t see your message.
I don’t have time.
I don’t like it.
I’m fine.
Small things.
Harmless things.
At least, that was what she always told herself.
“Did you even listen to what the professor was saying today?”
Mia looked at her.
“I did.”
“You’re lying.”
Taylor laughed.
“See? You already caught me.”
Mia shook her head.
“One day that’s going to come back to bite you.”
“It won’t.”
“It will.”
“It won’t.”
“Okay.”
Mia stopped walking.
“But when it does, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Taylor only smiled.
She had no idea how quickly those words would become true.
The first lecture went by without any major problems.
Taylor sat beside Mia.
Sam was a few seats away.
The two of them had known each other long enough that they didn’t have to talk constantly to know what the other was thinking.
During the lecture, Taylor looked at him once.
Sam was already looking at her.
He raised his eyebrows.
Taylor immediately shook her head.
Mia noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Sam?”
“Yeah.”
“What does he want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
Taylor smiled.
“I hate when you say ‘uh-huh.’”
“I know.”
Brad didn’t know Taylor.
In fact, he didn’t even know her name.
He noticed her only when the professor began calling students by name.
She was sitting several seats in front of him.
Blonde hair.
Black sweater.
A pen between her fingers.
A look that suggested she was bored, even though she was carefully writing down what the professor was saying.
She laughed a few times with Sam.
Brad didn’t know why he noticed.
It wasn’t important.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Until the professor closed his book.
“All right.”
The voices slowly died down.
The professor removed his glasses and placed them on the desk.
“Before we finish, I want to introduce something we’ll be doing over the next three weeks.”
Students exchanged looks.
“A project?” someone asked.
“In a way.”
The professor picked up a marker.
On the board, he wrote:
21 DAYS
Underneath it:
NO LIES.
Someone in the back row laughed.
“Excuse me?”
The professor turned toward them.
“Twenty-one days.”
He pointed toward the words on the board.
“Twenty-one questions.”
He paused.
“And twenty-one honest answers.”
Taylor looked at Mia.
Mia looked back at her.
They both made the exact same face.
Sam laughed.
Brad simply watched the professor.
“Every day, you’ll receive a question. You must answer it honestly.”
“What if we don’t want to answer?” someone asked.
“Then you don’t answer.”
“Then what’s the point?”
The professor smiled.
“Exactly.”
A few students laughed.
“The rules are simple. You cannot lie. You cannot deliberately leave out the truth in order to create a different answer. And, most importantly, you don’t have to share your answer with everyone.”
Taylor raised her hand.
The professor looked at her.
“Yes?”
“Who decides whether we’re lying?”
The professor smiled.
“You do.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does.”
“How?”
“Because the hardest person to lie to is yourself.”
The classroom fell silent.
Taylor lowered her hand.
The professor began handing out papers.
“Your first task starts today.”
A sheet of paper landed on Taylor’s desk.
At the top, it read:
DAY 1
Underneath:
Why did you really choose this university?
Taylor read the question.
Then again.
She didn’t like it.
Not because she didn’t know the answer.
But because she knew the real answer wasn’t the one she had been telling people.
The professor continued.
“And one more thing.”
He looked across the entire room.
“You won’t be doing this alone.”
Sam leaned back in his chair.
“I knew it.”
The professor looked at him.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The professor began reading out the pairs.
Taylor listened without much interest.
Until she heard her own name.
“Taylor Morgan.”
She looked up.
The professor looked toward the other side of the classroom.
“Brad Harrison.”
Taylor froze.
Slowly, she turned around.
Brad was already looking at her.
For the first time, they really looked at each other.
Not across a hallway.
Not by accident.
Directly.
Taylor stared for a few seconds.
Brad looked completely calm.
Too calm.
Sam turned toward Taylor and gave her the faintest smile.
Taylor gave him a look that clearly said:
Don’t.
Sam raised both hands in surrender.
The professor continued reading names.
Taylor turned back around.
But she wasn’t listening anymore.
Brad Harrison.
She didn’t know him.
But there was something about his eyes she didn’t like.
Not because they were unpleasant.
Because they looked like the eyes of someone who noticed too much.
She didn’t like people like that.
The lecture ended a few minutes later.
Taylor packed her laptop into her bag.
Sam waited for her by the door.
“Good luck.”
“I don’t need luck.”
“You do.”
“Why?”
“Because you got Brad.”
Taylor looked at him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Sam shrugged.
“Nothing.”
“Sam.”
“What?”
“You know something I don’t?”
“Maybe.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t.”
“I do right now.”
Sam smiled.
“See you later.”
“See you.”
Taylor watched him walk away.
She didn’t notice Brad standing a few feet away.
She didn’t notice him look at Sam.
Then at her.
“Taylor.”
She turned.
Brad was standing in front of her.
“Yeah?”
“I think we should decide when we’re going to work on the assignment.”
“Okay.”
“Today?”
“Today?”
“If that works for you.”
“I have plans.”
Brad nodded.
“Okay.”
Taylor looked at him.
“But I can move them.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I can.”
“The library at six?”
“Sure.”
Brad nodded.
“Okay.”
He turned toward the exit.
“Brad.”
He stopped.
Taylor smiled.
“If we’re going to be doing this together for twenty-one days, maybe we should try not to hate each other on the first one.”
Brad looked at her.
“I don’t hate you.”
“Yet.”
A barely noticeable smile appeared on his face.
“Yet.”
Then he walked away.
Taylor stood there for a few seconds.
Mia came up beside her.
“You like him.”
Taylor looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mia.”
“I said nothing.”
Taylor sighed.
“He’s weird.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
Mia smiled.
“Okay.”
Six o’clock.
The library was almost empty.
Brad was already sitting at a table near the window.
Of course he was.
His laptop was open in front of him, along with a notebook and the paper containing the first question.
Taylor arrived a few minutes later.
“I’m late again.”
Brad glanced at his watch.
“Three minutes.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“It does.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’ve already said that.”
She sat across from him.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Taylor looked at the paper.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Who goes first?”
Brad picked up his pen.
“You.”
“Why me?”
“Because you asked.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“It is.”
Taylor looked at him.
“I hate this assignment.”
“It’s only day one.”
“Exactly.”
Brad looked down at the question.
Why did you really choose this university?
“We can start.”
Taylor sighed.
“Fine.”
She picked up her pen.
She began writing.
Brad looked at his own paper.
He wasn’t watching her.
He wasn’t trying to read what she was writing.
At least, not until he heard:
“Done.”
He looked up.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to read it?”
Taylor stared at the paper for a few seconds.
“No.”
Brad nodded.
“Okay.”
“Your turn?”
“I’m not done.”
“Why?”
Brad was silent.
“I don’t know.”
Taylor looked at him.
“That’s not true.”
For the first time that day, Brad actually smiled.
“See?”
“What?”
“You’re already breaking the rules.”
Taylor laughed.
“I never said I answered honestly.”
“I know.”
Silence returned.
Rain tapped against the windows.
Somewhere between the shelves, someone turned a page.
Taylor looked down at her paper.
Brad did the same.
They both knew they hadn’t written the whole truth.
But neither of them was ready to admit how much they had hidden.
Not yet.
Because the first day was easy.
The question was simple.
The lie was small.
And twenty-one days seemed like an eternity.
They didn’t know that by the time they reached the final question, they would both wish they had never agreed to this challenge.
And they didn’t know that somewhere between the first answer and the last, something would grow between them that neither of them would be able to simply lie away.
Not to each other.
But to themselves.
Day One.
The first question.
The first lie.
That would make a good title for this novel. The First Lie. ✍️